


Memories

by Pastel_Teacups



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: AU: Grantaire was the only survivor of the battle, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:32:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is the only survivor of the battle at the Barricade. He sneaks in and visits his friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

It’d all happened so quickly. One moment, they were standing around the barricade, as one, and the next--

Grantaire couldn’t bear it. 

After the battle had begun, he’d searched. He tried, desperately, to find Enjolras, their best and only leader. He couldn’t go without him. He _needed_ Enjolras. 

But, by the time he ran outside of the third building he’d checked for the man, it was too late. There Enjolras was, hanging dead out the window of the cafe. The red banner was still in his hand. 

Grantaire was struck with sudden grief, but knew he had to keep going. He knew that Enjolras would not have approved if he collapsed here. Instead, he ran. 

He had no choice. Men were flooding out of the cafe where his love hung, dead. They were looking for traitors, like him. And he knew that, if Enjolras were here, he would tell Grantaire for run, to get out of here while he still could. He knew that, while Enjolras would say that, he would stay and fight against the opposite force. Enjolras always said, “better a martyr than a coward.” He had no choice, even if it did make him a coward. 

And now here he was, standing over the bodies of all his friends. He managed to sneak back behind the barricade late at night, before they were disposed of. He supposed he only came to say his last goodbyes. 

The first one in the lineup was Gavroche, looking smaller than he ever did in life. Grantaire smiled through the tears rising in his eyes, remembering last Christmas. He’d dressed up as a very drunken Santa, and had practically forced the young boy into the elf costume. It was a great laugh when they arrived at the party, even though Gavroche scowled and tripped Grantaire up whenever he passed him up. Grantaire bit back his tears, and continued on. 

Eponine laid next to him, her dark hair fanned out around her head. He vaguely remembered a night when Eponine taught him how to braid her hair, explaining her reasons for it as he fumbled with the strands of hair. 

“You know, Enjolras braids his hair back quite a bit.” 

He paused, and shook his head. “Very funny.” 

He knelt down and brushed a soft strand of hair our of her face. He sniffled softly, before he straightened up. 

He passed Joly, and thought of the time they drank together, and spun odd tales around the table in the corner. Everybody rolled their eyes and shook their heads, yet laughed as they told their ridiculous stories. 

It was getting harder to hold in his tears, but he continued with his not-so-stony resolve. 

Combeferre and Courfeyrac came next, and he’s reminded of how kind they both were. Combeferre, who simply wanted to watch people learn. And Courfeyrac, who seemed a brother to them all. A harmless man, though he always had more than one woman running after him. He remembered the late-night meetings they had, when they spent the night strategizing, arguing with one another while Grantaire drank in the corner and contributed nothing but snarky remarks and jokes. They often glared his way, once even asked why he’d showed up at all. But once in a while he’d speak up and say something brilliant. So, they let him stay. 

Grantaire bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and moved on, shaking his head in a failed attempt to clear it. 

When he saw Marius, he was struck with a memory so suddenly he had to stumble back. 

It was a late night, and Marius was walking down the dark streets with Grantaire in silence after a long meeting. As they turned towards Grantaire’s street, Marius paused. The other, too, paused, looking down at him. Then, he spoke. 

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Marius asked, looking up at the man. 

Grantaire watched him for a long moment, before nodding. “Yeah, I am.” 

Marius looked down, suddenly understanding. “I’m sorry. That-” 

“He doesn’t love me. Doesn’t even like me.” He interrupted, nodding. “I know.” 

He paused another moment, before laying a hand on Marius’ shoulder. “That’s love. You have to stay, even when they don’t love you back. Because maybe, just maybe, they’ll love you one day. It’s weird to explain. But you always stay.” 

Marius simply nodded, and Grantaire smiled. “You’ll understand. You’ll fall in love with someone some day.” 

And now Marius _was_ in love, and it was too late. Whoever he longed for last night and the night before would never see him again. He knew the feeling. 

And last, but certainly not the least of his friends, he reached Enjolras. 

He stared at the man a long moment, before falling to his knees beside the leader. 

Grantaire stared at him for a long while, his mind wandering across memories. None of them were very picturesque, nor were they pleasant. 

But just one memory sticks in his mind. 

It was after a meeting, and Enjolras and Grantaire had stayed behind to help. The blonde was ranting and raving about something Grantaire had said. 

“I was only trying to help,” Grantaire had argued. 

“You were trying to make me look stupid.” Enjolras replied, shaking his head. 

“I would never do that.” 

“You would always do that,” Enjolras sighed, not looking up. 

Grantaire stopped cleaning, looking up at Enjolras. “You really don’t get it, do you?” 

Enjolras stopped, too, and met the man’s eyes. “That you love me? Yes, of course I know.” 

Grantaire grew quiet, and looked down. “Oh.” 

“I know. And I’m sorry, Grantaire, but I can’t disturb the cause with-”

“Forget it.” Grantaire cut him off quickly, shaking his head as he tugged on his coat. “It’s fine. I should go.” 

He left without another word, ignoring the quiet call of his name as he silently vowed to never be in a room alone with Enjolras again. 

Now, he simply stared down at Enjolras’ body, tears filling his eyes. This time he didn’t hold them back, letting them slide down his cheeks. After a long moment, he reached out and took the man’s hand in his. 

“Enj,” He whispered, closing his eyes. “I’m so sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen to you.” 

In a way, Grantaire knew it was a lie. He knew that Enjolras was prepared for this. Hell, Enjolras was planning on it. Like he’d always said, “better a martyr than a coward.” 

Grantaire very reluctantly let go of his hand and stood, wiping his eyes. He looked over the lot of them, all of his friends. All gone. He would have to live life alone, now. He doubted he could make new friends. He heard Enjolras’ voice in his head, telling him that he was a useless coward. 

He shook his head softly and moved to turn away, but stopped. He looked to Enjolras again, and watched him, praying for him to move, to breath, to give any sign of life. But of course, he didn’t. 

“I love you.” 

Without another word he turned away, wiping his eyes and leaving his friends and love behind. 

He didn’t want to, but he carried on. He always did.

**Author's Note:**

> This may have destroyed me. Let me know what you think!


End file.
